Because beautiful things never last. Not roses nor snow… And not fireworks, either

There is only one thing I fear now-love. For I have seen it and I have felt it and I know that it is love, not death, that undoes us.

When you can write music that endures, bravo. Until then, keep quiet and study the work of those who can.

Cripes Miss Wilcox, they're not guns,' I said. No, they're not Mattie, they're books. And a hundred times more dangerous.

They leave things behind sometimes, the guests. A bottle of scent. A crumpled handkerchief. A pearl button that fell off a dress and rolled under a bed. And sometimes they leave other sorts of things. Things you can't see. A sigh trapped in a corner. Memories tangled in the curtains. A sob fluttering against the windowpane like a bird that flew in and can't get back out. I can feel these things. They dart and crouch and whisper.

Had you but seen it, I promise you, your high-minded principles would have melted like candle wax. Never would you have wished such beauty away.

She's got a big belt around her hips. It has a shiny buckle with PRADA on it, which is Italian for insecure.